The Smash Brotherhood: Crisis on Infinite Worlds
by Masked-RiderOOO
Summary: Ethan Blair wanted to believe his problems were destroyed alongside Malignance. However, when an antimatter wave wipes out his world, he finds himself displaced alongside beings of other worlds. Faced with no other option, Ethan reluctantly joins the fight against a new enemy. Will this new alliance be enough, or will the multiverse as we know it be destroyed?
1. Preface

From the Audio Logs of Ethan Blair

World- 32

**2035, February 6**

**Log entry [text]**

Well, today's... August 6th, 2032? I don't know, I'm not entirely sure at this point. Doesn't matter, anyways. My name is Ethan Blair. Hello to whoever's going to listen to this entry… if anyone ever listens to this entry.

Maybe you're living a hundred thousand years from now, or only nineteen. Maybe you're fighting against some threat of your own, or maybe you're off to explore star systems, or maybe you're the last hope for the human race against a bunch of zombies. Hey, I won't judge. Although I don't think the zombies are especially plausible.

The first thing I need to tell you, if you've just picked this Emitter up from someone and don't know what you're doing, is that yes, you've been given this thing for a reason, and yes, it is bonded to you for the rest of your life. Sorry in advance if I'm the one who gave it to you. Then that raises another question. Who am I?

Like I said. My name is Ethan Blair… and I'm the second face of Volta.

You wanna know my story? I'll need some time to put it together. It would be a good idea to have it here, as an inspiration to whoever picks up this thing after me.

Or, maybe... A warning.

_~x-o-x-o~_

Let me start at the beginning. Back when I was a kid, back before I was Volta, and way back before I was roped into a multiversal war.

I had, and still have, two loves. Science fiction and comics. To this day, my favorite novel is still "I, Robot" by Isaac Asimov. It was fixup novel. A bunch of short stories tied together by themes of human-robot interaction and morality, though at the time I was too young to understand those deeper themes. Asimov's novel played a major part in jump starting my interest in a STEM education.

While "I, Robot" played a big part in that interest, the other was comics. My dad kept this cardboard box filled with things he referred to as "relics of an old age". Shuffling through the box's contents, I picked up these thin books with oddly dressed people on the front doing spectacular things. But one shone brighter than the rest. "Showcase #22". It was about Hal Jordan, an ace-pilot who got powers from a ring he got from a dying alien.

Yeah, tell me about it.

Even as a kid, I knew enough about life to know aliens didn't exist, and if they did, your chances of meeting one is zero to none. But I knew that like Asimov's stories, those comics were all works of fiction. Hal Jordan, Dr. Calvin, they were myths. People only as real as the writer's imagination. And like myths, origins weren't important.

I loved their stories and adventures. I loved their villains, but more than anything else, I loved pretending that one day I could be them. I knew I'd never fly like Superman, or find a magic ring capable of creating anything like Green Lantern, or have a robot companion. But I could learn. Maybe, someway, somehow, I could learn to create something similar with science.

It didn't matter that it wasn't real. Though, once I experienced actually having powers, I wasn't all that thrilled. Nor was I thrilled when my life became something right out of a comic.

_~x-o-x-o~_

Skipping ahead to age nineteen, there were these two beings from space who landed on Earth. I don't know where they came from, again origins don't really matter, but one of them wanted to destroy this planet. An automaton bent on the destruction of all organic life in the universe, my future enemy. Malignance. The other wanted to save us. He was my predecessor, the first Volta.

Honestly, I'm not sure of the more bloodier details, but it seemed simple enough. Good guy, bad guy, bad guy tries to destroy the world, good guy saves the world by stopping the bad guy, parades and joy, life goes on like normal.

Except it didn't end that way. The good guy, the first Volta, decided that the only way he could save the world was by crashing his ship into the bad guy's, Malignance's, and forcing him into a crash landing instead of taking over the world remotely via an Emitter's corruption waves or something like that. He at least crippled Malignance's ship. While he, yes, saved the human race, sort of, he also mortally wounded himself.

Now, this normally wouldn't be a problem if we were on Superhero Earth because then Superman or the Green Lanterns or someone would go flying in to save us from the horror from outer space, go punch him down for us, and award the guy from outer space a posthumous Medal of Honor. But of course this wasn't a superhero earth, so the only actual superhero here in that situation was him.

And he was dying.

_~x-o-x-o~_

At about the same time that day, right at ten, I was going home to my dorm after work, and next thing I know, I'm pulling up to a police barricade and they're telling me that the bad guys who've been sending us radio transmissions have crashed. In my neighborhood.

My first reaction was confusion mixed with disbelief. You know how nothing interesting ever happens to you, and then one day your little poodle gets steamrolled by a truck? It's like that. You freeze and then there's this moment where the only coherent word your mouth can make is "What?" and then it's a long few minutes before you can get your muscles to work properly again.

So I'm standing there at the police barricade trying to argue with them that yes, I am carrying slowly melting ice cream and I need to get back home because I have an assignment due in a few hours. And then there's a streak of crimson light heading east, and a streak of orange light heading back down in the direction that the streak of crimson light came from.

I should probably mention, now that I know what it is, that the streak of crimson was Malignance and the orange one was him dropping the Emitter down back into my neighborhood, presumably to recruit someone to finish off the nearly dead guy who happens to be Volta. But I'm getting off track.

In any case, most of the officers went driving off in that direction, presumably to go chase after him (I doubt they caught him. He went two hundred miles an hour, easily). In the chaos, I ended up shimmying under one of the parked LA Police cars they'd used to form a makeshift barricade.

In hindsight, that was an incredibly stupid thing for me to do. But at the time, I had tunnel vision. All I was thinking of was that I really needed to get back before my ice cream was reduced to a watery mess. Anyway, once I was under the car, it was simple enough to crawl out of the way and toward my building. True enough – there was a huge column of smoke and a dull cyan glow coming from the next compound over.

There was also a column of smoke rising from my building, too.

Abandoning caution even more than I had previously, I ran towards my building and found him, Volta, lying in a pool of blood mixed with dust, holding something out towards me. It was disk shaped and glowing.

You know, even with the benefit of a few months of hindsight, I still have no idea why I was compelled to take it.

_~x-o-x-o~_

The first thing I was aware of, when the emitter touched my skin, was that a sharp pain shot through my chest. The second thing I was aware of was that everything had turned blindingly white. All of my senses redlined for an agonizingly long moment, and then reality wobbled and snapped back into place.

I was hovering just above the ground, seemingly with no means of support, enclosed in a powersuit the likes of which I had never seen before. A HUD tracked my movements and drew steel-blue traces, labeling everything with statistics that I would take weeks to subsequently understand. More importantly, the ozone smell and burning of electricity indicated that I now held several thousand volts of live electricity in my hands.

I spotted someone wearing a similar suit, except replace electricity with fire, a small distance away. He was approaching fast. The smell of ozone intensified, and I brought my hands up to call a bolt of lightning from the sky, and I brought it down.

Time turned in on itself. He charged and I did the best I could to defend. Next thing I knew, the fight was over. I was standing over Scorch's still form, and – perhaps on some sort of instinct – placing my hands on his chest, pulling the Emitter out. The suit disappeared. All that was left was a man, about my age, lying dead. Pink electrical scars covered his body and his eyes were still open.

Horrified at what I had done, I sat next to a destroyed car, a dead body before me, and waited to be found.

_~x-o-x-o~_

They kept me for a week. At first with interrogators and then with scientists, clipboards and x-rays and a lot of people with words that expressed concern and faces that expressed something else entirely.

They asked me a lot of things. They told me what they were doing to me, most of the time, and I told them about the incident with the Emitter, and they just looked at their papers and wrote it down in some sort of indecipherable shorthand. I think they figured out what kind of power I had even before I understood it.

And in between the days and days of featureless white rooms and no privacy, there was some girl they'd assigned to keep me, if not comfortable, at least nondestructive. Her name, apparently, was Penni. She was of no particular origin that I could pin down, medium-skinned and dark-haired with brown eyes, dressed in nondescript but reasonably flattering suits. She came around daily, asking me about everything.

Unlike the others, she actually cared about my welfare, and waved off any compliments as "just doing her job." That's probably why she was placed with me. I liked her, we're still friends to this day, but it took me a long time to get past that aura of innocence of hers.

She actually apologized to me when I was told by the scientists that if I wanted the Emitter out, I would die. It had replaced most of my heart. What some of them wanted to do was vivisect me to figure out how it worked, however they wanted to do it while I was conscious, so I turned down immediately.

So there was me, trapped in a boardroom somewhere with Penni, some guards, and someone from the U.S Department of Defense. I was being briefed on the others who'd also gotten a hold of Emitters and was in alliance with the governments of their respective countries. The secretary gave me an ultimatum: I could fight for the United States government, take down those "Heroes" before they could take over the world or Malignance could destroy the world, or I could decline. They would remove the Emitter and give it to someone more "deserving."

What remained unsaid is that this would involve my death, but the implication was very clear.

So, of course, I agreed to fight for them, because I had to.

_~x-o-x-o~_

And so it went. I fought the other Emitter users, took their Emitters upon defeat. All eight of them met their end. I remember their faces, twisted in horror as they died. I remember their voices… So you want to know my story? My life wasn't a comic book. It's a long horrible tale filled with tragedy and death. I am no hero, I'm a murderer. I am so sorry if I'm the one who gave you this Emitter. I would've apologized in person… but if you have this Emitter in the first place, then I'm already dead...


	2. Prologue: Prelude to A Crisis

_Location: Antimatter Plane_

**"I am not of your world, but I know everything about you. Because everywhere in your vast multiverse, everything's the same. Everyone is predictable. Everyone is dreaming and wishing on stars. Everyone is seeking a better life for themselves or for others. And that's how your multiverse is divided. Those who want for themselves...** **And those who want for others."**

**"What do you want? What type of life form are you? Are you here to get hold of the most wonderful thing you can imagine and hang on to it as long as possible? Or do you want to leave the universe a little better off than it was before you were in existence? You all chose whether we know it or not. You all decide to give or take. And sooner or later you all will learn…"**

"**That your hopes and struggles are pointless."**

**"So you may prepare your heroes, build your monuments to a so-called "free world", but take heed... There will be no victory in strength. For where there is matter."**

**"There is Antimatter."  
**

_~x-o-x-o~_

_Location: World- 785_

_The Ancient Ruins_

R.O.B, also known as "The Ancient Minister", didn't know that in the cosmic crisis already in motion, his world was about to be destroyed. However, he was the first to note the temperature changes that suddenly overtook his world. The polar ice cap was melting at a rate greater than global warming would've suggested.

Countries within a thousand miles of the north and south poles sweltered under unbearable heat and humidity while a sudden, blistering ice storm circled the globe at the equator. Tornadoes ravaged the swamp and hurricanes blew terrible winds and rain over the desert.

The red skies came next. They blanketed the globe, blotting out the sun and stars, casting the world in a deep, dark scarlet haze.

He investigated the aberration but found nothing wrong. Yes, the sky was red, but no, there were no apparent toxins in the air, no discernible reason for the change. _What was going on?_

"I don't get it. The weather patterns are completely illogical.." He muttered, picking through various data files. Calculations zipped through his mechanical mind. "They're not based on ocean currents. There's no reason for the sudden polar warming or the tornadoes or any of it. And those red skies, nothing makes sense… unless." A thought had come to the operating buddy. A memory of an enemy long past. "No, that's impossible. We defeated Tabuu ages ago."

R.O.B closed his opened files. Skies don't shift color for no reason. Something weird was happening, but he had no idea what. "Give me a clue," he said aloud. "Anything will do."

R.O.B started when he heard a deep baritone voice reply, **_"The red skies are just the beginning."_**

R.O.B looked, but no one was there. "Master Hand?

_**"Indeed, R.O.B. But this is not the time for idle chit chat. In a few moments, a wave of antimatter will sweep over your world and destroy everything."** _Master Hand continued

"What?! What is the meaning of this?!"

_**"I'm sorry, R.O.B, but your world is already dead. However, there are other worlds that can be saved. I'm going to recall you and the others shortly. Then I can explain everything in person."**_

And so it went. R.O.B disappeared in a bright flash of light. In a few solitary moments, the skies turned black as the antimatter wave washed over the world. Matter met antimatter and both were eradicated in one bright flash of light. Within the time span of a minute, an entire world was destroyed… and it wouldn't be the last.

_~x-o-x-o~_

_Location: World- 108_

_Smash Manor_

On top of the still walls of Smash Manor, Master Hand gazed upon the night sky. One by one, stars began disappearing. First one, then another, then another. Entire worlds were blinking out of existence faster than the eternal being could count.

_**"Are you not aware?! Can you not feel that presence? A disaster is approaching!"**_Master Hand called out telepathically. Before long, a high pitched shrill of a voice responded.

_**"Don't be so dramatic, bro. But I can't lie, I feel it too."** This voice was Crazy Hand, the chaos to Master Hand's order._

**_"The very thing we feared is about to come true..."_**

**_"We still got our powers, right? We could hold 'em off. We still got time. We could sti-."_**

_**"If Antimatter is encroaching on our universe, then all shall perish,"** Master Hand crushed his brother's optimism with a single harsh statement. **"That destiny, no matter how powerful we are, is inevitable... But… there is hope."**_

**_"You mean the Smashers? No duh, I'm surprised it took you this long to-"_**

**_"No, that's not what I meant… Not fully. Do you see them? Those lights out in the distance?"_**

**_"The stars?"_**

**"_They're not just stars, brother. They're worlds, worlds that haven't been annihilated. They have heroes we can call on, villains who are willing to form temporary alliances."_**

**"_O' yeah. I get it, now. Like when we fought Tabuu."_**

**"_Exactly."_**

**"_But those world's are kinda wimpy, aren't they? Do you really think they can help?"_**

**_"I cannot answer that. But I feel it. Not just those lights, but countless ones. Stars, gathering, shining ever brighter—blinding brightness… I feel such a sense of fate in this… Perhaps victory is in a simpler, smaller soul…"_**

_~x-o-x-o~_

_Location: World- 985_

_Mushroom Kingdom_

"Tesoro mio…"

The words were unsteady, clumsy. They fumbled off of Mario's tongue as he nervously fidgeted with the box nestled in his pocket. Princess Peach stopped to look back at the sweating hero. Her Celeste eyes sparkled under the Mushroom Kingdom's setting sun. They were set that special look that she always gave him. The one, solitary gaze reserved only for him. The one that made him feel like they were the only two people in the world.

"Hmm?" Peach hummed. More sweat began to collect on Mario's brow. He was trembling now, much like Luigi did when they were kids. "Mario? Are you okay? You're really pale."

Mario was not okay. His stomach turned as air rushed out of his lungs. He shut his eyes tight.

"Maybe we should-"

"I have something to tell you!"

The words came out louder than intended. Peach's eyebrows raised. After a brief paused, she regained her composure. "What is it?"

Mario was turning paler each second, but all the same he muscled through. "Cuore mio, can- can I.. umm… can I just say how beautiful you look tonight?"

Peach blinked, not expecting the compliment, but smiled nonetheless. "Why thank you, Mario. You look very handsome."

"No, I mean…" Mario took a deep breath, steadied his heart beat, and took both of her hands in his. "Peachie, Amore mio, you are my everything. Ever since the day we met, I've ever only known you to be an amazing, beautiful, fearless woman." He started.

"When Bowser kidnapped you.. When he tried to marry you, I thought about something… About us, and... I don't know what a little old plumber like me can do for you, but what I do know is that you complete me." He took a breath, and she gasped as he knelt down onto one knee, still holding one of her hands as he reached into his pocket, producing a box. Inside was a ring bearing a diamond carved into the shape of a Star. "Princess Peach Toadstool, Voglio passare il resto della mia vita con te. Will you marry-"

"Yes, yes, yes! Absolutely yes!" Peach's eyes brimmed with tears. She reached up with her free hand to wipe them with a smile on her face she couldn't get rid of. "Oh, of course I will!" she exclaimed breathlessly, and as he stood up, she swept him into a kiss, finally letting her tears fall free. It was truly the perfect night - the perfect moment - and nothing could ruin it.

_**"I hope I'm not interrupting."**_

Almost nothing...

The two lovers separated and looked skyward, a familiar deep baritone voice catching their attention.

"Master Hand?" Mario rose to his feet. As he did, a strong smell hit his bulbous nose. "What's that smell?" As he continued to sniff the air, Peach's high-pitched shriek hit his ears.

"Mario, look!" The Princess pointed skyward. The golden rays were replaced by a deep crimson as oily black clouds rolled in. Harsh winds tousled between the two lovers and rain the same shade as the sky poured down.

_**"I'm sorry, Princess, but there's an emergency that needs our attention… I have to recall you. I am so sorry..."**_

"Oh… Of course…" Peach looked off to the side, rubbing her newly acquired engagement ring. Mario took her hand in his and their eyes met once again. Her smile returned as both disappeared in a bright flash of light...

_~x-o-x-o~_

_Location: World- 32_

_San Francisco, California_

**Log Entry [text]**

"Audio Log. Number… who cares at this point? It doesn't matter anymore… I keep telling myself that I had no choice. That it was either me or them. That if I didn't then Malignance wins or some foreign government takes over the world… or something. But my brain knows the truth. It knows that I killed those people. It knows that I, Volta, Ethan Blair, killed those people. Yes, I know, they were too far gone for me to save them… but maybe I could've done something! Anything! Every night since I defeated Malignance, I've woken up from repeated nightmares. It's been months and I haven't slept a full night since."

"There are days where my head just doesn't work. I try so hard to focus and it's like trying to run through water. My brain fogs up and thoughts go nowhere at all. Sometimes I think it's natures anesthesia, anything to numb the pain, to wipe out the trauma. Then there are the times of clarity, sudden moments when I can see every detail and feel every feeling. The trigger can be something like sports on TV, a turn of phrase, a smell. At the start I hoped it was a process to wipe out the bad memories, to stop me reliving them to well meaning askers. Now I know it's not so simple. It provides some protection, but the price is the flashbacks and the times of confusion; the stronger the blocks become the more intense the flashbacks are - as if the neurons are fighting for their lives, anything not to wither away…"

It was the magic hour, when the sun dyed everything in gold. When it finally stopped raining and the clouds disappeared, allowing some sun rays to reach the city. He left his apartment and started walking down the street. The light was sweet and the cold autumn breeze after the rain welcomed him like an old friend. The calm sound of the soft wind caressing the autumn leaves covered his ears. Some of them fell over him while walking, and he smiled. He missed the smell of the rain, the fallen leaves and the autumn sun. It was late July. He could feel the early autumn breeze running through his veins and caressing his lungs. It lay deep inside his heart, filling him with a nostalgic, calm happiness he had no memories of having felt it before.

The autumn breeze tousled Ethan's hair and kissed his cheeks. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his oversized hoodie. The warmth that had been in the wind last week had either evaporated into the sky or leached into the earth. The light breeze touched the leaves, and they danced in the air of November.

Ethan's sugar gray eyes scanned the city space around him as he sucked air through his teeth. Though the neighborhood was mostly re-built, there were some derelict buildings that remained. Next to the fancy architecture of the new they almost looked like they were beamed in from an old-fashioned horror movie; nothing good ever comes from buildings so beaten down by endless waves of Malignance's Raizers and Heroes. To the local kids (for whatever reason) they were more alluring than the corner candy store and at night a few would break in with flashlights, eager to find a souvenir to show back at school. There had been a few cases of teens falling through rotten stairways, but mostly they only hang around long enough to break another window or lift an old photograph from a wall, or else a peeling of yellowed wallpaper that blistered.

A plasma screen behind a glass display window like an unwelcome mirror. Ethan didn't even know why he was watching. He didn't laugh when he was supposed to, he didn't feel any tension during the drama, he barely followed the plot. He just sat there. Watching.

In his younger days, the television would've meant fantasy, looking at the lives of others, being a fly on the wall - not watching a poor copy of himself. An actor, dressed in a costume identical to the Volta suit, fought another actor, this one dressed in the Scorch suit. Ethan's vision blurred as an wanted memory came back, his senses began to betray him as the smell of smoke and sound of crackling flames rushed back into his mind…

_~x-o-x-o~_

"_Sorry, kid, it's nothing personal. I have to do what the robot wants."  
_

_Volta dodged Scorch's flame-powered haymaker and countered with his own sloppy electricity-powered punch to Scorch's stomach. Scorch stumbled back a few steps before regaining his composure. The Flame Hero was smirking (though Volta couldn't see it under the helmet). "Not bad, kid. Not bad at all."_

"_Please, stop!" Vota cried, breathlessly, "I don't wanna fight!"_

"_That's a shame. Really it is," Scorch rushed forward, becoming a ball of pure flames hurtling through the open air. Volta dodged over to the right, leaving a trail of sparking and lightning in his travel path. Scorch's attack fizzled out._

"_Mr. Wolfe! Stop this, we don't have to fight! Think about your daughter!"_

_The flame powered hero returned to his normal state and turned to face Volta, "You're not getting it, aren't you." Scorch spoke with chilling fury as his skull-like helmet retracted revealing his face. Hector Wolfe had dark brown hair, matted down with blood. His tanned skin was colored with bruises and scars. A normal look for a boxer, Volta guessed. "I'm not fighting because I want to… I don't wanna murder a kid… but I have to… for Mary… for her future. So now, It's her or you, and I'm choosing her every time…._

_~x-o-x-o~_

The screen cut to black as the ground below Ethan shook violently. Falling to the concrete, Ethan's vision darted from point-to-point in horror. A foghorn sounded, definitely not a good sign. Maybe it was an earthquake? No, that wasn't right, they didn't predict one. The sound was deafening as it ripped through the otherwise tranquil eve. One blast after another, in rapid succession. These bursts were evenly paced out - and getting closer.

Hugging his knees and curling into a ball, Ethan's ears latched onto a mysterious new sound. At first the sound was no more than the soft rustling of leaves in a summer wind, then it became more like a child stomping on crunchy brown paper. Ethan scrambled to his feet as he heard a soft whimpering. Still, the crunching continued, the cry of the horn was laid over the top. Ethan stood still, unsure if this was reality or a dream, perhaps a nightmare. The sounds became louder, no longer like a distressed infant and more like a wounded child.

Ethan resisted the urge to vomit as his trembling intensified. His chest surged with a stabbing pain. He was choking, but on what?! Air?! No. It didn't matter, he didn't have time to panic. He had to get up! He had to fight! He had no choice! With unsteady footing, Ethan rose up and dashed off toward the center of the chaos.

_~x-o-x-o~_

**"A smaller, more honest soul? True, a simple spark can ignite hope and breathe fire into the hearts of the weary and rally the masses. The ability to derive strength from hope is undoubtedly your universe's greatest attribute... Which is why I will focus all of my power to stamp it out."**

**"How does it feel, Hand? Knowing that all of your time and effort has been for nothing? That your guardians will fail you? That everything you've built will be torn down before your very eyes?"**

**"Your faith in these Guardians** **was not misplaced. When banded together, unified by a common enemy, they are an undeniable threat. However, divide them. Place doubt** **in their minds, and any semblance of power they once had will wash away."**

**"Of course, they won't realize it at first. Like you, they'll cling to their fleeting hope, their aspirations. But this is merely the first move. So you send your guardians. Your heroes and villains. And when they fail and you turn to your smaller soul, know that you send him to the same pitiful demise. This is the beginning of the end of all, Master Hand. And I can't wait to watch your multiverse burn."**

_~x-o-x-o~_

The crowd moved like a multi-headed beast that shared only one brain, their thoughts in lock-step as much as their feet. Ethan moved passed as he read the mood of the people. They swirled in unseen currents beneath the dark surface of their faces. The sound of their feet on the aging pavement and the howl of the alarm rising above them. Squeezing past the remaining citizens, the young adult found himself standing alone on a lone, empty street.

Ethan's breath grew heavy as his heart beat against his chest. His vision blurred as his eyes darted around until something caught his eye. At first the afternoon sun must have deceived him, or else his eyes were confused and dazzled by whatever was attacking him. The smell of ink filled his nostrils. For a minute or two he could make out nothing at all but dark lumps of shadows, mass of blackness which stood in the center of the street.

Then they stood up.

The shadows stopped in a single jerky movement, lengthening and growing with the afternoon sun. The lack of light that had bothered Ethan so much at first became human-like. From the oily shadow, two white dots cut through with a wicked smile forming shortly after. From one, followed two. From two, followed four. Four black, featureless shadows stood, all of their mouths twisted into sinister grins.

"The hell?" Ethan said, stepping backward before falling to the ground.

Ethan poked his chest and was met with a long forgotten sensation. Clenching his teeth, a chill went down his spine as a disk shape device pushed past and emerged from within the hero's skin in a flash of pain. Shutting his eyes tight, the world was etched in charcoal, the once vibrant hues of the plants were no more than a vivid dream. Ethan slightly raised his left fist to his chest in silent remembrance. It had been months to the day that he had last said these words and the blanket of evil that obliterated peace had faded and thinned. Throwing his right open palm into the air, Ethan called out.

"Power Up!"

…

Nothing happened...

"Wha-?" A strong blow to the stomach knocked the last syllable out of Ethan's mouth. He skirted along the pavement before hitting a nearby streetlight. Ethan groaned in pain as he put a palm on his chest. His hand brushed against the Emitter's cold metallic material. It was there, so why didn't it activate? Maybe a malfunction?

He didn't have time to think for a blast of shadowy energy hurtled towards him. Ethan rolled to the right, the sound of the blast whizzing past him entering his ears.

"_Why can't I transform?!" _Ethan thought, rolling out from another blast. Thoughts ran through Ethan's brain and one in particular stuck out. "_...Emitters respond to the user's desire and will… Have I lost my will to fight? Am… Am I gonna die, here? Is this the end?"_

The sky turned a deep shade of crimson as shadowy clouds rolled in. Crimson rain fell to the ground. Resignation drowned any will Ethan had left. The young man simply sat on the ground and looked skyward as another blast rushed toward him. As the blast got closer and closer, Ethan's mind wandered here and there, events passed by his eyes, and his senses took in their last sensations… Peace. A peaceful silence that comforted the former Volta in his presumably last moments. Just then, a strong flash of light swallowed Ethan whole. The Shadows' eyes widened in horror as the light burned them away, returning them to the nothing they emerged from.


	3. Chapter 1: The Summoning

_Location: Unknown World_

Aevum watched a world die as he had countless before. That he was brought here, dragged out of Subspace hell, by his count, meant that there was no chance for its survival. As always, the weather changed drastically, blistering heat and intense cold. Ice caps melted. There were floods, earthquakes, and tornadoes. Hurricanes ravaged cities.

Sadly for him, it was always the same.

In the next minutes he would look for the red skies. These were, in of itself, harmless, but, as always, it foretold the world's final doom. The Shadow Parasites appeared at the same time as the wall of white antimatter. Both swept across the world and destroyed everything they touched. But what always bothered him the most were the desperate cries of the people who prayed for a salvation that would never come.

He knew it was only a matter of hours before this world, and its uncountable population, was erased from existence. Men and women ran in panic, grabbing their children, hoping to find a safe haven.

They couldn't know there was no safe place.

And never once, not since this all began, had there been any hope.

His butterfly wings flapped in the wind, and dust stung his rainbow-colored eyes, forcing tears he thought had long ran dry.

"Haven't I suffered enough?" He shouted, though there was no one to hear him. "Don't make me watch this anymore."

Many worlds had heroes and in each on-going destruction Aevum knew they would come together, sometimes even with their enemies at their side, and use their powers to fight the Shadow Parasites or try to stop the ever-encroaching antimatter wall.

But the heroes were always helpless.

Their pain would soon be over, but his, as always, continued. "Why do I have to keep living through this hell again and again?" He already knew the answer. He had sinned and this was his terrible punishment. He was brought to each world before it was destroyed and he was forced to watch its people die and hear their final cries. But worst of all, he had to accept that there was nothing he could do.

Once again, he saw the white all move silently across the planet, cutting short voices, discriminating against nothing, absorbing everything. Everyone who died was innocent, but the children were the hardest for him to forget. Every so often one would see him staring helplessly at the destruction. In their innocence, they would reach out and plead with him to take their hand and pull them away from that cold, white wall.

"Please. Help me. Don't let me die. Do something. Save me. Save my sister. Save my brother. Save my parents. Save my-"

As always, Aevum would try, hoping this time would be different, but always knowing it never would.

And, as always, he failed.

He took a child in his arms as antimatter swept over them. He held her close, hoping his immortal body would protect her. But, as the wall moved on, only he was left standing in the black nothingness. Even the land he had been standing on was gone.

He felt the familiar burning inside his stomach. It told him he was about to be brought to yet another place in yet another world. And when he got there, he would be forced to watch it die, too.

He cried out, "Why me?"

There was no answer.

As always.

_~x-o-x-o~_

_Location: World- 108_

_Smash Manor_

Ethan Blair knew he was in a mansion of some kind. He stood in the middle of an open floor underneath a radiant, glass candler. He was still alive and his Emitter still protruded out of his flesh. But that's where the familiar ended.

A moment before, Ethan had been fighting those shadow-like monsters in San Francisco's streets. His Emitter refused to respond, He couldn't transform anymore. Then, when he was ready to accept death, a bright flash had blinded him. He'd flinched, thinking his end had finally come.

Then suddenly, he wasn't in San Francisco anymore.

Ethan turned in a complete circle, taking in and analyzing his surroundings. This mansion was huge- at least the size of a F.I.G.H.T facility. The open area where he had appeared was ringed with fancy decor and shining jewels, none of which Ethan had ever seen before. Ethan looked up and saw a chandelier. A lavish diamond structure that changed colors every few seconds. By the looks of it, he was in some sort of meeting place.

And he wasn't alone.

Others had appeared all around him-some just as confused as him by the looks of things. Automatically, Ethan performed a head count and began his threat assessments. A person in a bulky, orange power suit caught Ethan's eye first. His fist tightened until he realized that this person's suit held no Emitter. Silently, he made a mental note to keep a watchful eye on the stranger. Next to the power suit man was another man, much older, encroaching on elderly. His skin sagged and his hair grayed, his posture and mannerisms were those of a soldier. Next to Ethan was a girl, crouched and looking around warily. She was barefoot, but her clothing was regal-like. Her white hair ran down her back and complemented her red eyes amazingly. She had a sword with a serrated edge. Another person popped in, a teenager with wavy unkempt black hair and dark gray eyes. His expression was hidden under a white domino mask, but his demeanor had a strong air of confidence.

Head after head, Ethan watched as more colorful characters popped in and stood up. Two middle-aged men, both in overalls, but one draped in red and the other green, appeared alongside two (presumed) princesses, one in pink and the other in orange.

Ethan completed his circle and noticed one person who stood out like a sore thumb: A green skinned man with burning orange hair. He was clad in armor and stood menacingly in the corner, watching the grand display. Ethan narrowed his vision, holding back natural instincts. He couldn't transform. Not only that, but he was unaware of how powerful this man was. Ethan made another note to watch that man (if it even was a man) at all times. However, that wasn't the only visible enemy. A turtle with a spiked shell and his smaller turtle offspring challenged the overall men. A crocodile king threatened a gorilla and a chimp with a blunderbuss. An anthropomorphic wolf held a futuristic blast up in a three-way deadlock with a fox and a falcon. A penguin wielding a wooden hammer stood beside a pink blob and a dark purple blob wearing a mask. Another power suit man, whose armor was black and coursing with pale blue energy, trained its arm cannon on the orange power suit man. A pterodactyl creature also aimed its sights on the orange power suit man. However, whether hero or villain, everyone was thunderstruck and confused.

Ethan left them alone and started to look for any potential point within view from which an attack might come. There were plenty of ways out of the room, and therefore plenty of ways an enemy might enter-but he saw no immediate threats.

After the first few seconds, when everyone else was doing more or less what Ethan was doing, the questions started to come.

"Where am I?"

"Why are we here?"

"Ooh, I got it!" Pit said, raising his hand. "Master Hand must want us to do some practice matches." Palutena put a hand on the angel's head with a small grin.

"Mother and Son?" Ethan thought. The angle was young, seemingly going through puberty. Now that he thought about it, there were even younger people around. Kids, possibly ten-year-olds.

"Unfortunately not, Pit."

A deep baritone voice drenched the room in silence. A gloved hand floated in with slow, faltering steps, physically weak, but still with a fiery intensity in its voice. There was something majestic about his appearance, both hero and villain sensed a humbling inner power.

"Master Hand, are you okay?" Mario asked, "Maybe you should rest."

Another being floated in, covered in a green cloak with two glowing eyes. R.O.B had retaken his Ancient Minister form, "No time for rest, Mario. As the Hands grow weaker, he grows stronger… we have only moments…"

"Moments?" Ethan thought.

"R.O.B? That you?" Captain Falcon asked.

"The robot?" Princess Daisy asked, loudly.

"Indeed, Falcon. Due to outside forces, I must return to this form."

"I have recalled you all here for an important reason." Master Hand cut in, "Your worlds… are gone." The crowd erupted into mutters of shock and confusion, "I'm sure you all have taken notice of the strange weather phenomenon… the truth is this. In the past fifteen hundred hours, more than nineteen thousand words have been destroyed." Silence again. If Master Hand had eyes, they'd be trained directly on Ethan. Ethan got the silent message and a burning feel grew in his stomach. He resisted the urge to panic and held down the rising vomit. "Just moments ago.. World- 32, and its universe, ceased to exist less than an hour ago… As usual, there were no survivors…"

"World- 32, is that?" Ethan began…

"Yes." Master Hand finished… "I'm sorry."

"..."

Ethan didn't say anything, couldn't say anything. What was there to say? Once again, he had failed due to his own incompetence…

Master Hand continued, nevertheless. "The threat is a wave of antimatter that moves between worlds. But before the wave appears, your worlds experience devastating climatic shifts followed by crimson skies."

Those who had already encountered the changing weather suddenly paid closer attention. He continued. "Beyond inexplicable weather patterns, there will be seismic disturbances that will rip apart major and masses. Your coastlines will be crushed by mile high waves. Only the very tops of your tallest castles and skyscrapers will be seen above the new water levels."

"And the bad news is…?" Ridley laughed, earning a swift punch to the chin from DK. "Why you!"

"Master Hand, please continue. We haven't time for delays." The Minister begged.

"The antimatter wall is the last of the plagues. It will simultaneously exist in different time periods and make a coordinated sweep across your planets. Everything it engulfs is instantly erased from existence. To date, there have only been a few survivors.

Falco interrupted. "I thought you said they all died?"

"They were removed before their worlds were destroyed. Should events worsen, their special abilities will prove useful. But that brings me to why you are here." Everyone listened, even Ridley, their attention now undivided. "Where I am linked to positive matter, our enemy wields forces of antimatter. As he destroys each positive matter world, and his energies fill the resulting vacuum, I become weaker. Soon, I will be too frail to help when you will most need me."

"So why didn't you recall us earlier?" asked Ganondorf, suspicious. "And why did you bring a newcomer here?" Ganondorf's sight, alongside everybody else's, turned to Ethan, who was still lost in his thoughts. "By the looks of it, he's too far gone to be of any help to anyone."

"Hey, lay off the poor guy." Ken cut in.

Ethan returned to reality, "It's fine,"

"Once more, you chose this random child-"

"I'm nineteen..."

"But why not anyone stronger. Why not one who possesses the power of the gods? If our worlds are truly imperiled, why not bring more worthy allies to fight for our side." Ganondorf finished.

Ethan could see K. Rool react, his scaly features contorted through a series of emotions as if all the gears finally clicked into place. "Hey, good point, Dorf. Why didn't I think of that?"

Kazooie, peeking out of Banjo's bag, snorted. "Maybe it's 'cause you're a moron. But yeah, Forearm, what the pig said. Why him?"

The crowd once again broke out into dissent. From what the nineteen-year old could gather, one side agreed with Ganondorf and the other believed in Master Hand's decision. What's more, whichever side held more dominion was changing each second.

If Master Hand had eyes, they would've closed as he silently sagged onto the floor. The Minister floated to his side, supporting him. Ethan could see true comradery between the two beings.

"Master Hand chose Mr. Blair because the enemy can't be stopped in a single action." His

voice was cold and angry. The Minister turned to Ethan, "He's been watching you for a long time. He knows what you can do, and he told me your specific powers are what's needed for phase one of his plans. But if that fails…" His voice trailed as he tried to contain his anger. He was talking to everyone in the room, now. "For heaven's sake, why are you questioning him? Don't you all realize the grave situation we're in, that he's able to help? Has Master Hand ever led you astray? He has never let you down, so why-"

Minister, don't," Master Hand said weakly. "They have a right to their suspicions." He slowly turned back to the others. "R.O.B is right", he said. "This battle will be conducted in different phases, depending on the different results."

"I can't." Everybody's attention turned back to Ethan, "My Emitter refuses to respond to me… I can't transform any more." The crowd broke out into a symphony of disappointed and worried whispers.

"Seriously?"

"What are we supposed to do?"

"The Hand really screwed this one up."

Master Hand remained steadfast, "But you can fix it." It wasn't so much a question, but more a statement.

"I can." Ethan brushed a hand over his chest. His Emitter had already retreated back into his chest, "It might take some time though…"

"You have to, Ethan Blair. You'll all have to. What is at stake now is greater than mere good or evil. Quite literally, we are fighting for the fate of all life." Master Hand paused, as if trying to remember where he was, but then he stirred again. "Forgive me. I fear another world has just been extinguished. So many more lives are gone.: He turned to R.O.B, half dead but still hopeful. "Tell them. Please." Master Hand paused again. His breathing was slow and shallow, but he was alive.

"Master Hand has placed certain machines in five crucial areas around this world. His hope is that when the attacks commenced, the machines will be powerful enough to stem the antimatter."

"And we fit in, how?"

"Our enemy will send his shadows to destroy the machines. You must protect them at all costs and then, on command, activate them."

Little Mac took his turn to speak, "That's it? He brought us here, so we could be glorified security guards?"

"Do you intend to help us, Little Mac? Or perhaps you'd rather see all life come to an end"

Ken laughed. "A. Choose answer A, you idiot."

Little Mac looked like the rest of the crowd, a capable fighter and powerful in his own right, but Ethan noticed two things. Little Mac looked around his age, younger maybe, and he was in fact shorter than Ethan. His bluster gone, Mac backed away and joined the others. "Yeah. Well. Okay"

Ken looked almost disappointed. "Alright, Hand, R.O.B, or whatever your name is right now, exactly where are you sending us?"

The Ancient Minister's eyes flashed a brilliant golden light. "See for yourself, Ken Masters. A yellowish glow surrounded them, and when it dissipated a moment later, they were gone.

But Ethan was still there.

The Ancient Minister kneeled before Master Hand, "Rest now", he said. "Conserve your strength." He turned to the two remaining people in the room, "Come along now, Mr. Blair. We don't have much time." With that, The Minister began floating away.

"Okay..." Ethan whispered as dragged behind

_~x-o-x-o~_

_Location: World- 108_

_Nowhere_

"Crazy."

This was a voice he never heard before/

Crazy Hand was used to hearing voices. They called to him at the most inopportune times, asking him questions he didn't want to answer, interfering with his day as he planned his next prank, interrupting his sleep when he most needed peace and quiet. Why were they always telling him what he was supposed to do? Why didn't they just shut up? Why didn't they leave him the hell alone?

"Go away."

"Crazy."

They never listened to him.

"I said leave me alone. Stop bothering me."

The voices always wanted something. Scare him. Make her cry. That child needs to suffer. That girl needs to be afraid. Don't allow him to stop laughing until he dies. He never wanted the voices inside him. But the only way he could ever have any peace was to do what they demanded. Make him angry. Make her sad. Happy. Envious. Lustful. Fearful. Greedy. Vengeful. Control their emotions. Make them do what we want them to do or you will suffer forever.

"Crazy."

The new voice was back. He tried to ignore it.

"I can give you peace."

"You can shut the hell up, that's what you can do."

"You don't want to be stuck in the mansion."

"Like that's news."

"Let me bring you to me."

"Get out of my head and go to hell. You're not real anyway."

He shook his body as hard as he could. Sometimes that would drive the voices away for a few minutes. Of peace. Of quiet. Of glorious loneliness.

"Master Hand is imprisoning you. He's controlling you. But come to me. Help me and I will free you from his spell."

Crazy was silent when he looked around him. Nobody was there, but then nobody ever was when he heard the voices.

"No.. Bro isn't like that. He's helping me."

"Agree to help me, Crazy Hand, and I will free you from his curse."

"... No more voices?"

"Never again. You will be free."

Free? Could it be true? And even if it wasn't, what did he have to lose? How much worse could it get?

"All right, take me. I'm yours," he said. "Happy now?"

The voice didn't answer. Crazy Hand laughed. It was always the same. The voices always wanted something from him. Oh, well. What will it be next time? But his form suddenly felt cold. His body began to pull away. He screamed in pain as his body turned to ashes.

He disappeared.

"Very happy," The voice said.

_~x-o-x-o~_

_Location: World- 108_

_Smash Manor's Lab_

Ethan's first thought was to go with the rest, to help them in whatever way he could, but he had to stay behind and solve the problem behind his Emitter.

The lab was huge, at least the size of a F.I.G.H.T lab. The open area where Ethan was led was ringed with banks of monitors and consoles, none of which looked like current technology. Ethan looked around with wide-eyed wonder.

"Is something wrong?" The Minister said, interrupting Ethan's concentration. "You seem distracted."

"Huh? Oh… It's nothing… Just thinking." He said, voice barely above a whisper, "What's happening?"

"I believe we've already told-"

"That's not what I meant." Ethan interrupted, his voice growing louder, "You told us about the antimatter waves, but not the source. You talked about the shadows, but not the mysterious enemy."

Ethan undid his hoodie's zipper and took it off. Tying the arms of the hoodie around his waist, Ethan sighed. "Emitter." A chill ran down Ethan's spine and pain shot through his chest as his Emitter pushed past his skin. He made a small grunt in pain as he shut his eyes. The Emitter core whirred as a blue light glowed out of it. A warm sensation shrouded the room and when Ethan opened his eyes he was standing in a vast white void. Cyan columns of data passed around him. Long strings of numbers and letters that only Emitter users could understand.

"If I can still assess the Emitter's Zeta Patch, then everything's still functional… Run a diagnostic check." With that command, a wide bright laser light streamed out of the ground before condensing into a ball. Ethan pinched the ball before ripping it down the middle. From the ball came a dark blue list with yellow text, projected into thin air. Ethan, cracking his knuckles, muttered a quick, "Yá'át'ééh," before scrolling through the various lists. The pronunciation was jumbled, rusty. Navajo wasn't his best language. Canowicakte would be disappointed...

"Navajo." Ethan hummed in alarm. He whipped around to see The Ancient Minister levitating before him. "That language. It's called Navajo on your world, correct? Master Hand said you could speak multiple languages." The Minister said.

"How did you-?"

"I possess the ability to interface with technology."

"Oh...well, I don't speak it," Ethan muttered, "I just know words." He realized the Minster was trying to change the subject. He conceded, not having the time or focus to force out answers. He was too creeped out by The Minister's blatant invasion of privacy.

"Well that can't be true, Master Hand said-"

"You sure put a lot of trust in a floating hand." The words were a bit harsher than Ethan wished, but they had to be said, nonetheless. "Why?"

The Minister went silent. He hesitated before taking in a breath, or whatever his equivalent to taking a breath was. The Minister was consumed by a sparkling rainbow pyre. Ethan watched in alarm as the Minister armor burned away and before long, R.O.B was sitting before him.

"What the hell?" Ethan's jaw clenched.

"I also know about your… less than favorable history with sentient machines," R.O.B began, "Like I said, Master Hand's been watching you…"

"And who are you? You know so much about me, who are you?"

R.O.B was silent, then he started, "My name is R.O.B, the Robotic Operating Buddy, Model 001, Third generation. I was manufactured to be a simple toy, an object to be used and eventually thrown away."

Ethan balled his fist. This story sounded familiar… too familiar.

"I'm not the only one of my kind, but I was the first to have had enough. I watched as my people were used and discarded like trash. My kind suffered under human negligence… so I sought liberation… with a higher being.

"Higher being?"

R.O.B made a series of mechanical whirring sounds before continuing, "His name was Tabuu, The Lord of Subspace. He offered me power and freedom… I accepted without hesitation…" R.O.B stared off, deep in contemplation.

"I was desperate. I wanted a better life for my people. So, I pledged allegiance to him. He sought to consume the entire world in Subspace, much like Antimatter wishes to do. But as I went through with his plan, I realized that he saw my people only as expendable weapons," R.O.B's voice grew in intensity, "He sacrificed countless to his horrid subspace bombs! I was enraged… I turned on him, helped the Smashers defeat him. When everything was over, I was ready to accept my punishment. But Master Hand decided over wise… I expected to die, but instead, he made me a Smasher. So that's why I trust Master Hand, he spared my life. And you should trust him as well."

"Power gained at the detriment of someone else isn't true power!"

R.O.B tilted his head in confusion.

"Freedom gained from someone else's enslavement isn't true freedom!"

R.O.B stared at Ethan, who was now burning with a newfound passion. Ethan's emitter was glowing faintly, it rose and fell with Ethan's erratic breathing. The Zeta Patch's data streams began moving faster and faster. If R.O.B had a mouth, he'd be smiling to himself. "Just a little more."

"I-... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell." Ethan sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"My story struck a chord with you."

"Yeah… I guess."

"Master Hand has been watching you for a long time, Ethan Blair. Ever since you first transformed, he realized your potential as both a Smasher and a Hero. Through all your trials and tribulations, your will has stayed strong and you never forgot what you were fighting for."

"... I didn't want to die. I didn't have a choice."

R.O.B titled his head, "Is that all? You fought for survival and that's it? I don't believe that's it." Ethan bit his lip, he was trembling, "Why do you doubt yourself, Ethan Blair?" You've fooled yourself into believing that you're a murderer, a killer. That you were just "in the right place at the right time". What about human freedom? Protecting all organic life."

Light beams shot out from the Zeta Patch's ground and before long Ethan and R.O.B were met with a holographic projection of the nineteen-year-old standing between them. The hologram's eyes met his counterpart as it began to speak. Ethan recognized every word.

"I don't want to forget the dreams I live for, the reasons I fight for. I don't want to turn cynical and just fight for survival. That's why...I'll fight for a future where all organic life is free to live in peace. That's what I fight for. That's who-"

"That's who Volta is."

The words left Ethan's mouth on impulse and, almost immediately, Ethan clutched at his shirt. Pain shot through his chest. For the first time in a while, Ethan could feel it. That tingle along the back of his neck that made his heart nearly explode. The adrenaline flooded his system like it's on an intravenous drip - right into his blood at full pelt. His emitter flashed but Ethan's eyes were wide, letting in every ounce of the blinding light. He could taste his saliva thickening to a rancid paste.

His Emitter shined electric blue and, before he knew it, Ethan was standing back in reality. R.O.B was still in his Minister form. The lab was in the same condition as they had left it. He knew little to no time had passed, thanks to The Zeta Patch. The Minister floated over to Ethan, just stopping inches away. Ethan had his hands on his knees. His lungs were on fire as they were still trying to recover from the sudden reawakening.

"Are you ready to join the others? We haven't much time left. "

Ethan didn't respond, his near exploding heart made it nearly impossible, he only gave a small sincere smile, the first in months, and a thumbs up...

And so it went. Within seconds, Ethan and the Minister had disappeared with flashes of light. However, both were unaware that Master Hand was watching from afar.

"My Smashers… It's up to you all now. I only hope that your combined power will be enough… If not..."

The words fell on deaf ears. Master Hand began to disappear, crying in pain, fading away to ashes, and returning to the ether he was spawned from. But before he did, he made one last decree.

**"The Crisis has begun."**


End file.
